Heat of the Moment
by chocobnyluv
Summary: Tony's a dick, Steve bakes a cake, and then sex happens. Rated M for smut.


**AN: Hey! Long time no see. 8NobodyKnows8 and I were stuck in a cabin without internet for five days. This is what we came up with. Pardon the OOC-ness. As previously stated, this was a collabo/role-play with 8NobodyKnows8, and neither of us (no matter how many stars we wish upon) have magically gained ownership of the Avengers. **

Tony kept his hands busy in a variety of ways. Today he sat in his lab, busily crafting one of his latest gadgets off of pure instinct at this point. Sparks flew in every direction, his work space a complete war zone (and Tony knew war zones well). He dragged his grease stained hands across his fitted white t-shirt and lifted the welding mask from his face.

"Jarvis, I need you to bring up the blueprints for the newest suit, stat. I may be onto something here." He fiddled with the plethora of holograms at his disposal, the AI answering him with a sharp 'Yes sir.' A soft thumping sound reached his ears, and he turned to see Steve knocking gently against the glass door to his workplace. He motioned for him to come in. Any other Avenger would have just barged in, but not Captain Manners. Steve stepped through the doorway, a bag clenched in his hand.

"You've been here for days, Stark. You haven't come out of here once, and Jarvis says that you haven't eaten anything." Steve fished a paper plate out of the bag. "I brought you lunch."

Tony eyed him cynically, rolling his eyes. Steve just gave him a steady look, all too used to the playboy's behavior. "I'm touched you feel the need to go all 1950's house wife on me Rogers, but I have a more important question. How did you even get down here? I personally changed all the passwords and beyond that, you don't have the security clearance anyway." He narrowed his eyes at the ceiling, when it dawned on him. "Jarvis…" Tony sounded all too much like an accusative father.

"Yes sir?" The British Al answered, in a tiredly polite voice.

Tony crossed his arms. "You wouldn't have by chance given Cap here all the security passcodes would you?"

Jarvis was silent for a brief moment, before what sounded like an exasperated sigh came from the intercom. "I have been programmed to keep you alive sir, and while you seem to insist on pushing your limits, a week does seem a bit extreme."

"A week, it's been a week already? I must have been quite productive…wait… what day is it?"

"It's Thursday Stark. You've been here since last Tuesday, so it's been more than a week, actually." Setting the bag down on Tony's desk, Steve began dishing food from the take-out box onto the plate. It was piled high enough that Tony was sure even Steve, with his increased metabolism, wouldn't be able to eat it all.

"Cap, you can't possibly expect me to be able to eat that much food at once after having not eaten in weeks, months even-"

"All the more reason for you to eat then," Steve sighed. "Stark, how can you possibly not eat this long, and then not be hungry?"

"I'm not saying that I'm not hungry, just that I can't eat all of _that_." He gestured at the stack of food. "And why do I even have to listen to you anyway? Loki's gone, so is the Norse god of muscles for that matter, and neither of us are suited up." Tony's brown eyes did a long sweep over the Captain, making him squirm uncomfortably. "So I don't see why I should have to listen to you or Jarvis for that matter." Tony continued, turning his back to fiddle with the device he was working on.

Steve's jaw set, glaring at Tony head on. "Stop being stubborn Stark. As much as you'd _love_ to be the lone wolf in the spotlight, we're a part of a team. And while I'm the leader you're going to play by my rules. I can't have you collapsing out there; we need to be ready if someone decides to attack." Steve shoved the plate in front of Tony. "Now eat or I'll force feed you myself."

Tony paused, looking somewhere between pissed and amused. "Hm, is that an order Captain? And tell me this, when the hell did we get married? Because I seem to remember that this is _my_ house and I decided what I do and don't do." Tony's eyes narrowed at Steve. "Let me give you some advice: if you want to play house, go find Coulson. I'm sure he'd be happy to play your doting housewife."

Steve froze, his eyes widening in shock. Slowly, he set down the plate that he had been about to hand to Tony. His hands clenched at his side, knuckles turning white as he fought the urge to storm out of the room because that would mean that Tony had won. And that was never, ever, going to happen.

"As I seem to remember, I didn't have a choice in the matter of my living quarters, Stark. You were the one that forced me to live here instead of my apartment which I, by the way, happen to like a lot more than this…" he waved his hand in the air, motioning to the area around them as he searched for the correct word, "uncultured, glass prison of bad taste. But if you want to play it that way, since I am the leader of this team I can, and I will, forbid you from fighting with us. The way that I see it, if you are a liability to this team then as the leader I _will_ force you to stay here instead of coming with us the next time something comes up, and you will not be allowed to leave your room, just like the little, self-centered, brat that you are."

Tony clenched his jaw, forcing an angered smile to his face. "Well well, Cap. It seems you can play rough. Never took you for the type, considering how much 'compassion' you claim to have and all that classy American spirit you're supposedly made out of. Tell me, did you grow those balls before or after my father made you everything you are today? As far as I'm concerned all of this," he spat, gesturing to the whole of Steve's deliciously sculpted body, "is property of Stark Industries, label and all."

"Well, at least after Howard and Erskine changed me I made a name for myself, a respectable one that inspired others to do the right thing, instead of inheriting everything from my father. Everything that you have, your mansion, money, half-dozen sport cars, everything; all of this you got from your dad. Yeah, you invented things. You invented weapons to kill people, _innocent_ people, even ones that you cared about. You let the company that your father built up, the shining name of Stark Industries, fall into the shade of its former glory. Stark Industries used to be a company that invented ways to save people and make life better. You destroyed everything that your father stood for, what he strove to achieve. Howard was a good man who helped those around him but _you_; you destroy everything that you touch."

Tony slammed the nameless gadget on the table top, defensively invading Steve's space. "Yeah? Well I have news for you Rogers. I'm not my dad! He may have been a good man but he was _not_ a good father. After my mother died, my old man was all I had to look up to. And look at me now Steve!" He stepped back, gesturing to the whole of himself. "This is what your precious Howard created! So you may not like who I am Rogers but you have yourself to blame for that. My dad spent _years_ looking for you." Tony backed off, his voice intense but quiet. "It's not like he had much time to look after me…I'll eat your damn food, just get the fuck out of my face Steve."

Steve hesitated, angered at the slur on one of his best friends, but also sad. Sad that Tony had never known what a great man Howard had been, and that Howard had ever sunk down low enough to neglect his family searching for a dead man. It didn't matter that he had been what Howard had considered 'his greatest invention', family always came first. Steve had stressed that when Howard had cornered him, drunk and horny (sometimes not even drunk) during the war. He'd had a girlfriend back in the states who was waiting for his return, and no matter how much Steve had wanted that physical connection with someone, he would not let Howard throw that away.

"I am sorry, Tony for what Howard did. It was… inexcusable, but you have had plenty of people in your life who have tried to help you, to pull you out of your downward spiral and who were always there for you. But you pushed them away like they didn't mean anything, like they weren't _worth_ , and that… that made you just as bad as your father." Solemnly, Steve picked up the empty carton and bag, and left the room, his shoes making barely any noise on the polished floor.

With Steve's back turned, Tony allowed himself to look as hurt as he felt. He picked up the fork, shoveling the food into his mouth, not really tasting anything at this point. His mind was blank, his body moving on autopilot as he forced the food down, willing himself not to think of just how truthful Steve's words had been. When the door swung shut, Tony buried his face in his hands, running his fingers raggedly through his hair. He tried not to notice that he had managed to get motor oil in it, and couldn't really bring himself to care. Instead, Tony wordlessly closed up shop, violently shoving his work in a corner and eating the remainder of his food.

Steve furiously shoved the cake pan into the oven, closing the door before turning back to the island. Grabbing the milk out of the fridge he poured it into a bowl filled with powdered sugar. He started whisking the two together, muttering angrily while bits of the mixture flew out of the bowl, splattering everywhere. Slamming it down onto the granite he cursed as the bowl cracked. He grabbed fistfuls of his hair and yanked, hard enough to pull out a few strands. Sometimes he hated his super strength. Taking a few deep breaths he cleaned up the mess, throwing it all into the trash. Steve grabbed another bowl out of the cabinet and began the whole process again. Glowering down at the bright pink mixture, he focused on not letting the soon-to-be frosting fly out of the bowl.

Clint walked into the kitchen, skin drenched from the workout he had no doubt just received, surveying the scene. He eyed Steve up and down with an amused expression on his face, throwing a towel over his shoulder. "I'm going to be honest Cap, what you're doing is seven different kinds of unmanly. Shall I list them alphabetically or numerically?"

Steve glared at him, eyes an ice-cold blue, while keeping up his whisking. "Don't you even start."

Clint laughed, grabbing a water bottle out of the fridge and sitting down on a stool facing opposite of the irate blond. "So, what'd Stark do to get your star spangled panties in a bunch this time?"

"He's being impossible! Tony's been stuck in his lab for weeks, and hasn't eaten in who knows how long, so I brought him lunch. I made sure to get his favorite foods from that Chinese restaurant he likes so that he would eat them, and then he goes and says that I went all 1950's housewife on him and that he doesn't need to eat anything that I brought him because this is his tower –like I could ever forget with the bad decorating taste and that it has his name plastered on the side- and he could do whatever he wanted. I was just trying to _help_; I don't understand how he can go for a whole week without any food!"

Clint laughed again. "Ah here we go, clash of the alpha males." The assassin took another drink of water before continuing. "Look Steve, I realize you're trying to help, but Tony isn't used to having someone take care of him. I mean look at him, the guy barely takes care of himself. With Pepper on vacation you can hardly expect him to remember his board meetings let alone basic things like eating. Plus you kind of do act like a 50's house wife sometimes…" Clint held his hand up before Steve could protest, the blonde's face twisted mildly in offense. "Hey, all I'm saying is that you go a little above and beyond when it comes to caring for him. The rest of us just leave him be down there. It's his pit after all, what do you care if he rots in it? Metaphorically speaking of course." Clint raised the bottle to his lips, eyebrow arched in smug interest at Steve's answer.

"W-well… it's… it's just that, I find it sad that he can cut himself away from the world for so long, and that people don't even care enough –not that I think you don't care about him- to make sure he's still alive and to ensure that he takes care of himself. With how many times he skips out on those basic things, he's killing himself and I won't, no I can't, let that happen."

"Awww, aren't you just precious." Clint barked out a laugh, ruffling Steve's hair. "If you care so much, then why don't you just tell him that?"

"Tell him what, that he's the first person since I woke up from the ice that treated me like someone other than Captain America? That he's the first person that looked at me and thought 'Steve' other than 'the man that saved our nation from total desolation'?" Steve shifted his weight to one leg and set the bowl back down on the counter. "That he was the first person in this world that I considered a friend, and that when I couldn't reach the lever in time on the helicarrier I nearly died because he was yet another person that I nearly let down, that I couldn't save?"

Clint looked back at him, only letting a small amount of shock show on his face. He gave him a grin, unsure of how to deal with emotional problems. "Those are some pretty intense emotions you got going there, Cap." He chuckled uneasily, then sighed, giving in a little. "But in all seriousness…why _haven't_ you told him that? I mean as far as Stark knows, you still hate his guts. You need to get that kind of shit off your chest, especially since we're around each other 24/7…plus I speak for the rest of the team when I say the level of sexual tension you guys emit is getting uncomfortable." Clint laughed, letting the severity of the moment fade. "Seriously, we're all placing bets on when you're going to rip each other's clothes off…or suits. You know."

Steve blushed, his face turning completely red as he took in what Clint said. "W-what?" He stuttered nervously, suddenly unable to look the other man in the eye. He opened his mouth only to be cut off by the timer; the cake was ready to be removed. Putting on oven mitts he took it out of the oven to let it cool, then took the fondant out from the refrigerator. Steve unrolled it onto the counter, and absentmindedly began making shapes. "Besides the fact that I read the S.H.I.E.L.D. hand book and there are definite anti-fraternization rules, I wouldn't be able to put him before the team if anything were to happen. I wouldn't be a very good leader if I allowed my personal feelings to cloud my judgment."

"Ah so you're saying you_ do_ have feelings for him!"

"…not necessarily." Steve all but whined. He definitely hadn't meant for that to slip out. "Okay, well… maybe. B-but I'm still not going to act on them! They'll fade, I know they will. We fought and I got to see a different side of him, something other than what the tabloids claimed him to be. It was the heat of the moment and I couldn't help but be attracted to that."

Clint, whose favorite pass time had become befuddling Steve with meaningless references, burst into spontaneous song. "_Heeeeat of the moment~!_" Ignoring Steve's look of confusion, he cleared his throat, carrying on. "Anyway, that is the biggest load of shit I've ever heard. Feelings like that don't just fade. Trust me, I know."

Now Steve was curious. Clint, the supposedly somewhat emotionless sniper, had some kind of insight in the matters of the heart. "How would you know?"

"Budapest. That's all I have to say." Clint shook his head, a smile on his lips as he lost himself in his memories for a short moment. "And besides, I won't let you distract from the true matter at hand. You need to confess to Stark!" he said, pointing a convicting finger at him.

"Confess what to Stark?" Tony walked into the kitchen, smelling faintly of the shower he had just taken, drying off his hair with a towel. He scanned the room with an eyebrow raised, sparing Steve a short glance before turning his attention to Clint. "Well?"

Steve blushed, the light pink dusting his cheeks as he avoided looking at Tony. "There's nothing to confess, other than my admiration for your devotion to your work."

Tony scoffed. "Oh so you admire it now? Just 45 minutes ago you accused me of working too much. Cap, if that's how you show your admiration we need to have a long talk."

"Well it seems like you two need to have one of those anyway. Have fun kids!" Clint waved mockingly, a shit-eating grin plastered to his face, and walked out of the room.

After a moment of awkward silence, Tony nonchalantly strolled over to Steve, still avoiding his gaze. He picked up one of the figurines Steve had been molding out of fondant and examined it. "The likeness is uncanny…" He said flatly, twirling a miniature chibi of the Hulk between his fingers.

"T-thanks." Steve managed to stutter out, only now looking at what he had made. To his utter embarrassment there were miniature figurines of the whole team there, except for the red and gold fondant that was in his hands. Finishing the Iron Man sculpture he set it down next to the others, tucked between Captain America and Black Widow, secretly proud that he had managed to make them that accurately when he wasn't even looking at what he was doing. "I just… I felt like creating something."

"Oh yes 'creating'," Tony replied sarcastically. "Cap, we all know you bake when you're pissed so I'd hesitate to blame this on sheer creative will."

"Maybe I just felt like it, okay?" He sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. I didn't know that I've done this enough times for all of you to know that, do I really get mad that easily?"

"Generally? No, just when I'm involved…" he said with a rueful smile. "I wouldn't worry too much about it Rogers. We have two…_strong_ personalities to say the least. It's bound to happen." He paused, finally lifting his gaze to meet Steve's directly. "Can I stop with the reassuring, or do I have to turn into Oprah?"

The reference was completely lost on Steve, who frowned in confusion. "Oprah?"

Tony instantly deflated, tipping his head back to groan at the ceiling, personally blaming it for the wrongs of society. "Never mind Cap, all I'm trying to say is, it's fine. It's all fine."

"Okay then. But it's only fine if you promise to eat the first slice of this when it's done!"

Tony just grinned at him, not trusting his mouth to speak when Steve was being so blatantly adorable. He glanced at him, nodding his head in agreement before changing the subject. "So…bird brain said you had a confession to make?"

Steve's brain stuttered to a stop. This could not be happening. He had already given his 'confession', so why couldn't Tony just let it go? He picked up a knife and started smoothing the icing onto the cake. "B-but I already said that it was that I admire your work ethic."

Tony gave him a cynical stare. "I don't know if you realize this, but you're a terrible liar Steve." He dipped his finger into the icing, licking it off clean while fixing his gaze on the blond expectantly. Steve blushed even more, his gaze darting away from Tony's face before quickly looking at him again, transfixed by the sight of Tony's tongue licking away at the icing.

"But it's the truth! I do admire that about you."

Tony's lips curved into a smug smile. "Really. Because that's not the only thing you seemed to be admiring right now." He dipped his finger back into the sugary mixture, this time licking the icing away very slowly and deliberately. Smoothing his tongue over the appendage, he studied Steve's expression.

Steve swallowed, all of a sudden his throat seemed dry, and he cleared it nervously. Remembering what Clint said, he gathered up all of the courage that he could and breathed deeply to try and settle the butterflies that were wreaking havoc in his stomach. Wetting his lips, he dragged his gaze up to Tony's eyes. "No. It's not the only thing that I admire. I admire your courage, strength, and your self-confidence. I admire how much care and attention you put into your suit, as well as Dummy and Butterfingers. There are lots of things to admire about you; there are lots of things that _I_ admire about you, Tony."

Tony let his finger fall from his lips, the sultry visage of his face slipping away, leaving him shocked. "Cap I…thanks, I guess. That…means a lot coming from you."

"Oh, uh… you're welcome." Courage spent, Steve returned to his work, watching Tony out of the corner of his eye as he strategically placed Captain America and Iron Man the closest to each other. Glancing at the leftover fondant he frowned, hands skillfully crafting it into a figure. In a matter of minutes, there was a chibi Coulson standing in the middle of the arrangement, complete with a miniature tazer, aimed at Iron Man.

Meanwhile, Natasha and Clint hid just outside the doorway, practically climbing on top of each other to see the ordeal taking place in the kitchen. The archer leaned on top on Natasha, staring at the awkward couple in frustration. "Holy shit, will they just kiss already?!" He whispered furiously.

"There's no way that Cap would make the first move, and Tony, well… I'm surprised he doesn't have Cap pressed against a wall by now. He wants this to be more than a one night stand, and he's smart enough to know that Steve would want to take it slow, but they could at the very least, hold hands." She smirked. "Cap would like that." If Clint heard her, he didn't show it. He was too busy making bizarre hand motions in the air as if to use the sheer force of his will to push them together.

In the kitchen, Tony was trying (and failing) to break his gaze away from Steve. He watched the super soldier add the finishing touches to the cake with a delicate grace someone his size and profession had no right to have. Tony bit at his lower lip forcing all potentially dirty thoughts out of his mind. This was not the time or place for an impromptu boner.

Steve, however, was trying to force himself to not notice how Tony's gaze was fixed upon him. Through sheer willpower he kept his hand steady and his face blush free, but behind his mask of composure his mind was running around in circles, trying to figure out the dilemma that was Tony Stark. It wasn't, to his knowledge, normal to stare at someone like that, but that couldn't possibly be because Stark liked him back. He must have icing on his face –which he did- or perhaps a small bug was on his cheek and Tony was wondering if he had noticed it or not. Taking a chance, he shifted and turned toward Tony, catching his gaze. 'God Tony has the most beautiful eyes ever…no! Get a hold of yourself, this isn't a good time to think that, who knows what will happen?'

"Is there something wrong, Stark?"

Tony seemed to snap himself out of whatever anti-boner monologue he was having in his head, blinking a few times to come back to reality. "What? Oh yeah, everything's fine." He chuckled, hiding his nervousness. Instead he turned his attention to the now finished cake, scooting a tad bit closer to examine it, immediately regretting the decision. All of a sudden Captain America flooded his senses. He was all too aware of how Steve's muscles tensed (more like flexed) as he drew nearer, and he also knew he probably shouldn't notice how Steve's hair looked impossibly soft, or that he smelled lightly of powdered sugar. Looking up, he saw a bit of icing that had smeared on his cheek and resisted the incredibly strong urge to lick it off. And just like that, Tony was just stuck staring at him, this time a little too close for comfort.

Steve couldn't believe how close Tony was; if he just lent down the tiniest bit then…well… Steve tried not to think about it too much. Then he noticed that Tony was, once again staring at him. "T-Tony?" He questioned, a hand rising until it rested against Tony's forearm. "Is everything okay? You're not feeling… sick are you?"

Tony laughed humorlessly, not breaking eye contact with him. "Yeah…I guess that's one word for it…" Before he could think to stop himself, Tony raised a hand to Steve's cheek brushing the tiny trace of icing off with his thumb, licking it clean afterwards.

Eyes following the motion, Steve nearly groaned. He could definitely think of some other uses for that mouth and tongue of his. But still… "If you're sick you should lie down, get some rest." Steve's brow furrowed in concern. He raised his hand, placing it on Tony's forehead. "You don't have a fever… but you should probably catch some sleep. Here I'll take you to your room."

This time it was Tony's turn to hold back a groan. What was the point of going to bed if you didn't have any company? Still, there's no way 'Golden Boy: Steve Rogers' would take too kindly to Tony shoving him down on a mattress and going at it with no warning. 'With no warning…' he thought to himself. Tony caught Steve's arm, staring at him intensely. "Only if you're willing to stay…" he replied, his voice dropping an octave.

"W-what, stay with you in bed?" Steve couldn't deny that it was an extremely attractive idea. And that voice… who knew that Tony's voice could go that low. It sent shivers down his spine. He would be more than happy to become Tony Stark's newest heat blanket, if it was what Tony wanted.

If possible, Tony got even closer to Steve, sliding a hand up his arm onto his shoulder. "That is what I asked isn't it?" The hand on Steve's shoulder slid down to his chest. "Or were you planning on making me beg first…?"

Steve's brain stuttered to a halt, as it had been doing more and more often lately. The concept of Tony Stark, _the_ Tony Stark begging Steve to do something was… unbelievable. "Perhaps… I can't say no to a person who begs." He lent in, stopping just barely less than an inch away from that mouth that had teased him so much. He moved one of his hands to Tony's lower back. "If you're willing to do what it takes…"

"Would you like me on my hands and knees Captain?" Tony said lowly, his breath mingling with Steve's. He slipped both his hands up the blonde's chest, pushing closer to him so their bodies were flush up against each other.

"I don't know… Tony. I've always preferred something a little bit more… personal then kneeling. But I will admit that, if that's how you want to do it, I'm always open to new ideas and concepts."

"Rogers, you could ask me to suck you off while singing the national anthem and I'd probably do it…" Their noses brushed lightly, their lips grazing each other ever so slightly as he spoke against them. "I'll do _anything_…" Tony's hands started to slide lower. "So what'll it be Cap?"

"Well, let's get to your room first." His gaze flicked over to the doorway where Clint and Natasha were still hovering. "Then I might take you up on your offer, if only to hear your beautiful singing voice. And somehow I doubt that you have the whole national anthem memorized. I hope you'll be able to prove me wrong."

"Mm, anything for you…" And with that he sealed their lips, having to go on tip-toe to do so.

Steve smiled into the kiss, kissing back briefly before grabbing Tony's hand and all but dragging him to his room. Tony opened the door and Steve surged forward, shutting the door behind him with his foot as he pressed Stark against the wall and kissed him, nibbling on his lower lip to get Tony to open his mouth. Tony's tongue darted out, tasting the inside of Steve's mouth, practically moaning as the blonde's tongue slid over his. He fisted his hair, bringing him even closer and hooked a leg around Steve's waist, trapping him against his body. He broke free only for a brief moment to gasp breathlessly in his ear, "God, Steve…"

"Feel like begging yet?" Steve nibbled at his ear, trailing kisses down Tony's neck. Finding Tony particularly responsive to that spot just below his ear, he kissed his way back up and nibbled at the skin, licking the red patch to sooth it.

"Well i-if you keep doing that I might not have a c-choice…!" Tony all but melted into a pool of jelly, wrapping both legs around Steve's waist to keep from falling. It took every ounce of self-control he had not to rut against the soldier right then and there. He pulled at the ends of Steve's hair, exposing more of his neck to him, attacking it with what can only be described as animalistic ferocity. He bit, sucked, and licked every inch of him he could get to, using his skilled tongue to try and get a response out of the blond in any way he could.

Steve moaned at his antics, and pressed even harder against him, gripping his hair to pull him into a heated kiss. "Bed… now…"

"God yes…" He groaned, allowing himself to be carried to the king sized mattress in the center of the room. The second his back hit the sheets he began working Steve's much too tight shirt off his torso. Steve grabbed at Tony's pants, yanking off his belt before working the fabric free and off. He then moved on to his shirt, unbuttoning it from the bottom up and taking enough time to map out Tony's torso with his hands, running them along defined muscles and skimming them across his side. The brunette writhed beneath his touches, bucking slightly against his bare chest. He wondered briefly if he should be embarrassed that his still sheathed erection stood proudly (he refused to say patriotically) for the one and only Captain America, but as Steve ran his hands up his chest he lost the will to care.

Steve attacked his lips with renewed fervor; pushing his leg between Tony's to rub teasingly as his hands travelled lower and lower. Grinning, Steve paused in his ministrations to gaze at the sight below him. Tony was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Even with how fast everything was moving, too fast, he couldn't bring himself to care because it was Tony. And for Tony he would do anything and everything. With Tony, things just felt so _right_. Smothering Tony with kisses, he grabbed at his boxers, smirking evilly at Tony as he slowly eased them down.

Despite how wanton he felt, Tony smirked back at him. "I think I like this new side of you Cap…" He squirmed beneath him, craving more-_any_- friction between them. Tony nodded in the direction of the nightstand, where the lube was stashed. "You know if you _really_ wanted me to beg, you could just take me right now." He slid his tongue over Steve's teasingly. "Make me scream for you Captain."

Steve smirked as he nibbled on Tony's ear before tearing off his boxers completely and palming Tony's length he started to slowly stroke him. "Is that a command?"

"Yes sir," he whispered lowly, giving him a mock salute before pulling him into a biting kiss, moaning as Steve stroked him mercilessly. Using his other hand, Steve reached blindly for the nightstand, somehow managing to open the drawer and fish out the lube without breaking the rhythm of his hand or their kiss. Placing it someplace easier to reach, he fumbled with the button of his jeans. Tony moaned needily into his mouth, pushing his hands aside. "Let me…" he all but whined, hurriedly stripping Steve of both his pants and his boxers.

"A bit too eager, Stark?" Steve smirked as he rubbed against the shorter man. "One would think that you're a whore with that attitude. Well, even if you aren't," he kissed him and grabbed the lube, placing it in one of Tony's hands. "Would you care to do the honors?"

"Bit of a dirty mouth there Steve…" Tony smirked, aside from being the most aroused he's ever been. "I never would have taken you for something so kinky…but I believe I told _you_ to make me scream," he teased, gliding a hand down to stroke the head of Steve's cock. "I'm still waiting…"

Steve laughed, taking the bottle and unscrewing the lid. Squeezing lube onto his fingers, he kissed Tony while reaching behind and fingering him, feeling Tony moan into the kiss. Teasingly, he slid the tip of his finger in before pulling out and circling around him again. Tony groaned in protest, and Steve couldn't help but agree. As much as he loved making Tony squirm underneath him, he couldn't wait. Plunging his finger in, he wriggled it, moving it in and out before judging him to be suitably stretched enough for another finger. He slipped the second one in, scissoring his fingers inside him, causing Tony to let out a loud gasp which he muffled with his mouth. After feeling Tony relax somewhat around him, he added another finger, thrusting them in and out of him at an agonizing pace. Tony, growing impatient pushed back on them, throwing his head back in ecstasy when they hit his sweet spot.

Steve's grin grew wider as a strangled moan escaped Tony's throat while he plunged his fingers in and out, taking special care to hit that same spot every time. Pulling his fingers all the way out he grabbed the bottle from where he threw it down and squirted an ample amount of lube in his hand, stroking himself, making sure that he was completely coated. The last thing that he wanted was to hurt Tony. Lining himself up, Steve kissed Tony gently, placing his forehead against his as he maintained eye contact. Tony nodded, almost unnoticeably and Steve slowly pushed himself into Tony.

It was clear the serum had helped Steve grow in a variety of ways that would never be known to the public. Tony arched his back into the sheets as he felt his body stretch to accommodate all that was Steve Rogers. He grasped at anything he could touch: the bedding, his hair, Steve's body. None of which could muffle the colorful array of noises that escaped his mouth. He had never heard anything like that uttered in human existence, let alone come from his own throat. It was pure bliss. Pain mixed forcefully with pleasure until Steve was buried to the hilt in Tony Stark.

Tony moved his hips impatiently, letting out a strangled groan. "Move damn it…!" Steve obeyed, slowly at first, then fast and faster. Still, Steve refused to go all out, and did his best not to hurt Tony. With his super strength it meant that he could break Tony's ribs, just by giving him a hug. There was no way he was going to let their first time be marred by any injuries. Tony grabbed Steve by his hair and pulled him into a messy kiss. Happily, Steve kissed back, pressing his tongue against Tony's. They barely breathed, always staying connected until the last moment where they would gasp for breath before returning to the kiss. Tony clawed at Steve's back, legs clasped around his waist as Steve gripped his hips. Changing his angle slightly, Steve thrust forward and Tony screamed as Steve slammed into his prostate. Moaning, Steve sucked at that place just below Tony's ear.

Tony moaned loudly at the abuse of his prostate. In all of Tony's wildest day dreams (and occasionally wet dreams), he had never anticipated Steve to be this…well, _good._ Hell, he had been starting to suspect the guy was a freaking virgin with the way he handled things, and especially the way he acted around women. But now as Steve thrust into him, hitting his prostate with precision that should be illegal, Tony (as practiced as he was) was reduced to a mewling mess he hadn't been since high school. He clawed at Steve, running his nails down that perfectly toned back, feeling him shiver beneath his touch. He wanted more. And while Tony was seeing stars as the current moment, he wasn't an idiot. Everything about Steve screamed that be was holding back. And that, quite frankly, was unacceptable.

"Steve- god! I'm not made of porcelain!" He gasped out, biting the shell of his ear. "H-harder…!"

"If you insist…" Steve grunted, slowly letting his self-imposed restrictions go. Slamming forward into Tony, the bed rocked back and forth, knocking against the wall. If Clint and Nat had any doubts about their current activities, that would have surely cleared those.

Tony screamed out Steve's name, along with a string of breathless curses, as he fisted the sheets beneath him. He gasped out, feeling Steve's grip tighten on his hips. At hearing that, the blonde's grip instantly loosened, pausing for a brief moment, the lust written on his face mixing with worry. At this, Tony grabbed him by the hair, clashing their lips together in a fierce kiss.

"Don't you dare." He growled, staring intensely into his blue eyes. Steve blinked, and sighed, resting his forehead on Tony's. Starring at Tony's chocolate brown eyes he wondered how he had ever gotten this lucky. To Steve, Tony was perfect, in every way. Even if he did have the tendency to completely isolate himself now and then from the world around him, he wouldn't change anything about him for the world. To Steve's chagrin, he felt his eyes prickle with tears and he gasped for breath. This time it was Tony's turn to pause in brief worry. He reached up, gently wiping away a tear that had escaped down Steve's cheek, smiling at him reassuringly.

"Come on, I can't be that bad." He whispered jokingly, staring at Steve with a level of compassion most people didn't think he possessed.

"N-no! You're not, you're perfect" Steve gasped, kissing Tony gently. He couldn't think of a way to adequately express what he was feeling right now, his mind full of lust and desire. "I just can't believe that this is actually happening." His eyes shone with happiness as he met Tony's gaze. "I've dreamt about it, but never entertained the idea that you could be interested in a guy like me."

Tony chuckled, smiling happily at him. "Cap I suggest we save the share and care circle for when you're not buried hilt deep in me." He laughed at the blush that rose to Steve's face and kissed him reassuringly. "But thank you…and you're the one who's perfect, not me."

Steve laughed, kissing Tony's neck and running one had up to grasp his hair, pulling his head back to expose more of the expanse of skin. Nibbling at it, he was sure to leave lasting marks to claim Tony as his.

To this day, Tony will never admit to the noises he made at that gesture. He grabbed at Steve's hair, rocking his hips in time with him until the lust that built up within him became too much.

"S-Steve…! Touch me, please…" Steve was more than happy to comply, reaching down between them to grasp Tony's length in his hand, running it up and down in time to his thrusts while propping himself up slightly with his other arm. He kissed Tony deeply, absorbing his moans and combining them with his own. It wasn't long before Tony reached his climax, moaning loudly into Steve's mouth, coming violently into his hand. He limply held Steve close, allowing him to ride out his own orgasm, breathing heavily into his ear. Steve loosened his grip on the sheets, slowly pulling out of Tony and lay limply against Tony's side, wrapping an arm around his waist and nuzzling his neck.

Tony lay against him, catching his breath, tracing Steve's every outline. His finger trailed over the circular imprint his arc reactor had made on the blonde's chest. "Sorry…" he vaguely whispered.

Steve chuckled and ran his hand up to Tony's neck, tracing the outline of his bite-marks. "Then sorry for these." He pressed a kiss against the closest mark. "But don't be. It definitely didn't hurt. I kind of liked it." He beamed.

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Kinky, Rogers…but I wasn't talking about that." His brown eyes lowered themselves away from Steve's face, downcast. "I mean what happened earlier in the lab. I wasn't always so…stubborn. I didn't used to be."

"Oh…" Steve grew serious. "What happened?"

Tony just smiled, brushing a stray hair from his face. "Another time, Cap. I may have a talent for it, but I know when I'm ruining a moment. And this…" he kissed him. "Is not something I'm willing to fuck up. Not this time."

Steve smiled in agreement, tangling their legs together and pulling Tony closer. Reaching down he pulled the blankets out from underneath them; leaving the comforter at the bottom of the bed he pulled the sheet over them. Cuddling Tony underneath the sheet, he kissed him sweetly, and buried his face into Tony's hair. "Some other time then. I'll hold you to that."

Tony all but groaned. "Of course you will." Tony hugged him close, kissing his chest lightly. With the adrenaline of sex gone, Tony's eyes began to close of their own accord, sleep overtaking his body. He nuzzled into Steve's neck, his breath evening out. Steve smiled, looking down at the sleeping man.

"Sweet dreams, Tony." Steve kissed his head, before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

Outside the door, Clint and Natasha had taken to playing a game of Go Fish. As the sounds coming from the inside of the room died down, Clint took the recorder he had out of his pocket, turning it off.

"Jesus Christ, how long were they going at it?"

Natasha looked at her watch, placing a matching pairing of twos on the floor by her feet. "About half an hour, forty-five minutes?"

Clint's face deadpanned. "Tasha, I need to get my hands on that serum."

The Russian rolled her eyes, picking up another card from the pile. "Not unless you want to end up like Bruce…"

Clint shrugged. "Hey, have any fives?"

Steve slowly woke up, murmuring to himself sleepily. He felt so _warm_. Opening his eyes, Steve blinked the sleep from his eyes, gazing lovingly at the sight spread out before him. Tony, still curled up against him, had somehow during their nap ended up using his arm as a pillow. With his eyes closed, and face utterly relaxed, he looked years younger. The slight salt and pepper look that was emerging in his beard, his long eyelashes, even the slight worry lines, it was all just so Tony. His hand itched with the need to draw him, to capture the moment, the image, before he woke up. This was the man that he had fallen in love with. The man who spent hours upon hours improving his teammate's weapons, provided them all with a place to stay after Fury kicked them all out of the helicarrier, and who always had a witty comeback and an unknown reference to everything he said.

Tony mumbled in his sleep, rolling closer to Steve. Blind arms reached out to run their hands across his chest with a feather light touch. Sleepily, Tony's chocolate brown eyes opened, the sight in front of them leaving him sleep-muddled and confused. He slowly lifted his gaze until he reached Steve's face, recognition washing over his features. A broad smile broke out across his face.

"Hey…"

"Hey yourself." Steve grinned in return.

Tony rolled onto his side, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist, placing a light kiss on his chest. "So I take it everything that happened last night wasn't a dream…"

"Nope, at least I hope not." Steve's eyes twinkled as he lent in for a kiss, capturing Tony's mouth with his own. Slowly, he pulled away, running his hand down to Stark's lower back and pressing them together while he kissed the younger man's forehead. "Did you sleep well?"

"Well considering it's the first real period of sleep I've gotten in a few months, I'd say yeah." Tony answered with a sly smile, placing light kisses to the curve of Steve's neck.

"A few months!" Steve was shocked. "Tony, how do you even stay up that long?"

Tony shrugged. "Practice. And lots and lots of Red Bull and coffee." He kissed him soundly on the lips. "Don't make that face…"

"Face? What face? Tony, there's no way that can be good for you, you're shortening your lifespan," Steve frowned.

Tony just laughed. "Then I'm probably doing everyone a favor."

Steve froze. "H-how can you even say that? Tony!" Steve felt like his heart was being crushed, a lump formed in his throat. "You wouldn't be doing anyone a favor. J-just… how…?" Steve choked.

Tony looked shocked, bringing up his hand to cup Steve's cheek. "Steve, Steve…babe, it was just a joke…" His thumb traced along the edge of his cheek bone, staring into his saddened blue eyes. "Old habits die hard I guess…come on, stop looking at me like that." He reassuringly kissed his lips, running a hand through his hair.

"It isn't something to joke about." Steve kissed him again. "Just the thought that someone, especially you, could even entertain the idea, even just as a joke…" He clung to Tony, enveloping him in a tight hug.

Tony's voice was soft. "Why does it mean so much to you?"

"Why does it mean so much to me? Well, I don't know, because it's somebody that you care about saying that if they died people would hold a party, like they were the wicked witch of the west. The fact that somebody who has so much going for them and who's surrounded by friends who would fight and take a bullet for them, could even express a wish to die… how do you think somebody who loves them would feel? How could it _not_ mean so much to me?"

Tony stared at him in pure shock for a moment, brows furrowed in confusion. He sat up. "Steve, I'm the liability, remember? I think about myself and only myself. You're the one who accused me of bringing down my father's empire yesterday. Steve…I don't have friends. The people around me are divided into three people: coworkers, people who want to kill me, and people who want to get in my pants. And often times, it's all three." Tony stared down at him, puzzled. "You're an anomaly, Steve. I don't know which one you are."

Steve was speechless. "Tony… I-I didn't mean that you were a liability all the time. Most of the time, you save our ass with some new technology thing that you had invented. It's just, when I can't be sure that you won't collapse due to exhaustion or malnutrition, then and only then would you be even considered a liability. I trust you with my life, with all of our lives when we're in the battlefield. So do all the others. They trust you, Tony. _I_ trust you." Steve sighed. "And Tony, if you don't consider Pepper a friend, then I have no idea what to say. A coworker wouldn't put up with all of your shit, none of us are coworkers." He rolled his eyes. "Jeez Tony, we all live with you. How could we not be your friends?

"Everybody who's been around me has wanted something from me. In this case it's a house. Hell I thought Pepper was the exception but then…" He paused, getting ahold of himself. "T-things got complicated. Now she's the closest thing I have to a friend. An ex-girlfriend and a PA. I let her get closer than anyone had before and I am _not_ making that mistake again." Tony broke off, looking away, refusing to meet Steve's gaze. When a few minutes passed, he took a deep breath, turning to place a hand on Steve's face. "Look…I ruin the people I sleep with, so I'd advise you to get out now. You're a great guy Steve…better than anyone else I've ever met. I don't want to break you…" He trailed off, holding back the tears that threated to come.

"Tony… none of us asked for you to have us live with you. You offered, and we accepted." Steve stared solemnly down at him. "You won't ruin me, Tony. And you sure as hell won't break me." He gazed into his watery brown eyes. "You won't get rid of me that easily, Stark."

Tony's eyes widened. He turned away, refusing to let Steve see his tears. "If you won't leave for yourself…leave for me. Please. I really like you Steve. I like being with you, I like fighting with you…hell I even love arguing with you because it's _you_. You're so god damn perfect and…I don't know if I could watch you go."

"You won't have to watch me go, Tony, because I won't leave you. I've wanted this for the longest time, practically ever since I first met you. Please… please don't push me away like this Tony. Now that I have you, I don't know how I could possibly live without you."

"You deserve better…"

"But I want you."

Tony finally looked at him, tears running down his face. "But you shouldn't…"

"And yet I do. Perhaps that should tell you something about yourself." He kissed away his tears. "It should tell you that you are irresistible, amazing, smart, adorable, sexy, infuriating, gorgeous, charismatic, energetic, hard-working, spontaneous, fun, wonderful…you are everything that I could ever want, rolled up into one person."

Tony had no words for that; he simply let Steve kiss him, passionately and comfortingly. His fingers wove themselves into Steve's messy blond hair, holding onto him for dear life. "Steve…please, I can't…" He choked out between a kiss, his hands firmly buried in his hair, unwilling to let go.

Steve placed a comforting hand on Tony's waist, smoothing the hair back from Tony's face with the other. "You can't what?"

"I can't do _this_…because I'll start to fall in love with you." Tony kissed him again hopelessly resigned. "Truth is I already have."

"And so have I. To be honest, Tony, I've been in love with you for quite a while."

"You'll regret those words Rogers…one day you will." One last tear fell from his eyes before Tony completely lost himself in Steve's kiss, their tongues mingling lovingly, dancing in each other's mouths.

"I doubt that would ever happen, Tony. If I ever fell out of love with you, if it could even be possible to stop loving you… I would rather die than let that happen."

"The day you die, I go too."


End file.
